


The Backups

by tea_petty



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alcohol, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Paddling, Penis In Vagina Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29675292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tea_petty/pseuds/tea_petty
Summary: She and Feliciano commiserate over their bad dates and wine.
Relationships: North Italy (Hetalia)/Reader
Kudos: 11





	The Backups

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my tumblr; tea-pettiest

The two glasses stood on the window sill, empty.

The glare off their rounded bottoms made it look like they were filled with a moon-wine fermented by the stars from where she was sitting. Her friend’s voice complimented the night, which wore his Italian accent’s warm lilt like a fur.

“And then, she spent an entire hour talking about how ‘pain was weakness leaving the body,’” Feliciano’s face screwed up as he said this. 

The goofy expression was boyishly endearing on him, like a classical painting brought to life. 

“That doesn’t sound so bad – unless, oh, wait, she’d see just how much you have?”

Feliciano sent a playful nudge at her ribs. She was drunk enough now that every touch seemed to leave a warm imprint on her skin, like bruises on a peach. She leaned against him so that her upper arm was pressed against his, this time, feeling the heat so potently that it seemed to stir up an ache in her chest.

“That wouldn’t have been a dealbreaker on its own, but then she went on and on about the girls at the ballet studio she runs. The ones she stretches until they’re able to bend as much as they have to or they _break_.”

She nodded thoughtfully and picked up her empty glass, momentarily forgetting she’d already drained the wine. She circled the glass in her hands, swirling air in a gesture of sophistication. Feliciano watched her, biting back a grin.

“Yes, well, according to my measurements, being a dancer is plus one on the sexy-o-meter, but – wait, how old are the girls she teaches?”

“Seven.”

“Oh, God. Yeah, alright, but trying to stretch the weakness from seven-year-olds’ bodies for an amateur kids’ production of _Swan Lake_ is a minus five.” 

She tilted her head back and lifted the glass to her lips, intending to drink.

She was surprised when she tasted nothing and pulled back as Feliciano finally let his laugh out. She studied him through the curve of her wine glass, holding it outward so that the lip print from her lipstick matched up over his skin as the carefree sound split the air. She hadn’t anticipated leaving a smear here of all places, in Feliciano’s living room, when she’d had her own date tonight, but whatever. Feliciano knew as well as she did that they couldn’t all be winners, and honestly? Most weren’t.

Having had his share of amusement, Feliciano reached for one of the bottles on the coffee table. He picked up one, shook it slightly to gauge its emptiness, and then set it down in favor of the other one. He pulled the cork out from where he’d shoved it half-way back in after opening it and filled their glasses.

“Mm, yes, child abuse is frowned upon,” Feliciano took a sip. “So is eating your salad like you’re getting revenge on it for being not so tasty.” He looked lost in thought. “Actually, take off another three points for that too. The restaurant was _nice_.”

“So that’s minus one for slighting the restaurant—”

“—and minus two for ordering _just_ the salad!”

They clinked glasses and collapsed in another fit of laughter mid-sip.

She swallowed.

“I _am_ sorry your night was a bust, though.”

Feliciano shrugged and gave her a dopey little smile, a dimple playing by the corner of his lips. She tamped the vicious urge to kiss it.

“The night wasn’t ’a bust’, as you say,” he gestured vaguely. “Look at where I ended up. I feel bad for _you_ – you look so pretty and ended up sitting here with just me.”

She wrinkled her nose to try and stave off the intensity of her smile at his compliment.

“Yeah, I guess Darren was a real letdown too.”

Feliciano took another sip, pausing after to study her from over the rim of his glass. The glass made his eyes look bigger from where she was sitting; it was all the easier to see how catty they looked. 

Heat was simmering in her, as much from his company as it was from the wine. She uncrossed her legs and then recrossed them the other way. Her dress rode up slightly at her thigh.

“Well, his loss is my gain.”

She felt heat splinter across her cheeks and quickly took a sip of wine to cover it up.

“Who needs lovers when you have good friends, right?”

“Mm, and sometimes, they’re even one and the same.”

She pretended not to notice the wink Feliciano shot her way.

They sipped their wine quietly for the next few moments. 

The air was no longer light and empty with relaxed drunkenness but heavy like it was bearing the weight of unspoken tension they shared. Her legs, curled up on the sofa between them, extended in a soft half-stretch that resulted in her toes brushing against Feliciano’s thigh. She hastily withdrew them, drawing her legs up tight against herself. 

It was then, she realized that Feliciano was watching her silently.

“You know,” she said, smiling, unable to do anything else in this awkwardness. “It’s funny – I used to work with a girl at this crappy, minimum wage job, and one day, she just turned to me and said, ‘hey, why the fuck aren’t I in Italy, meeting the love of my life?’”

Feliciano’s lips twitched into a grin at this last part, and she felt like she’d reclaimed a little bit more of their normal.

“And now, I’m—well, I’m in Italy, at least.”

Feliciano traced his thumb along the rim of his glass, inspecting how the liquid inside shifted in accordance with the little movement. 

He peeked at her through his unfairly long lashes.

“And to think, all you got was me instead.”

“Yeah, to think that I met you.”

They were watching each other now. It was incredibly quiet; even with the windows open, the street below was empty and silent. The air between them seemed to crackle. When she set her wine glass down on the sill again, Feliciano followed suit. The clanking sounds shattered the stillness in the room.

With that, she found herself shifting closer to him. 

She didn’t know why; her heart thumped in her chest – _it_ seemed to know why, but she didn’t, not consciously, not really until she fell against his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around her. Her cheek rested against his shoulder as he angled his head to receive her in a tender kiss.

His lips were so, so soft against hers, and even if she already knew this, she couldn’t help but let herself be shocked and delighted by this fact as if she were just finding it out for the first time. He tasted like the wine but got her so much drunker.

The sharpness of his cologne made her head spin. All the sensations swirling around like the baubles on a mobile, luring her into a passionate sleep that could suffocate her in a bliss she’d never think to protest. 

His fingers were soft and warm, slipping up the backs of her arms and stroking over her shoulders. She tried to hold him back just as well but always felt like her fingers fell short of his. He made touching someone into a craft that was, no doubt, honed by years of practice.

It was true – she accounted for some of those times, though tonight, she felt different. She knew it was naïve to think she wasn’t just adding another notch to his body count (and giving herself another reason to hate herself the next morning.) 

Many others had succumbed to the lips she was kissing. Men and women, all sexier, more experienced, more interesting and cultured than she, had been in his arms. She thought, maybe, a little bit of that is why a sliver of pride still stuck in her, vibrant, sharp, like a knife waiting for a space bookended by two shoulder blades. 

Maybe it’s that he chose to have her among his vast portfolio of lovers. When her pride got away from her, it told her that she had some indescribable quality that kept him wrapped around her little finger, when really, she knew it was the other way around.

One of her hands was cinched tightly by the collar of his shirt, rumpling it. The other one was stroking down his chest, revisiting the body she’d come to know so well. 

She could feel her fingers trip over the bump of his belt and trousers underneath, which brought her to the growing bulge at his crotch shortly after.

Finding it, she palmed him, squeezing gently. 

It was only recently, after she’d molted out of her shyness in being naked and open about her wants with him, that she’d felt comfortable with reaching for him so boldly.

Their joined lips buzzed with a playful growl from the man in her arms. The kiss intensified for a moment, his lips pushing and pulling, his teeth edging at her bottom lip, wanting to tease her into letting him chase her but forbidding her from leaving too enthusiastically.

When he finally broke the kiss, he was grinning wide, his eyes half-lidded. She felt like she was having a heart attack; even so, she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Mm, I feel _really_ bad for Darren now,” his eyes flitted down, lingering where her dress dipped to reveal a generous bit of cleavage. 

Her face warmed, and Feliciano shifted, rising slightly as his hands left her to pat down at his pants. He reached into his pockets, searching. When he came up empty-handed, his brow drew together in slight frustration, and he patted down his back pockets. 

She understood at once what the issue was, and the lovely heat building inside of her seemed to curdle and wither down into itself.

“What?”

“I, uh, seem to have forgotten...something.”

She knew at once what he meant.

Feliciano’s eyes were narrowed, and he was rubbing his jaw pensively as if trying to figure out the fastest way to materialize rubbers then and there.

She sighed, the thought of going home and using the warm water from the tap suddenly very depressing.

“Hang on,” he said suddenly. “I have to go do something.”

Feliciano was on his feet in moments, so fluid that such grace could only be accomplished to pursue something that he needed constantly.

“ _Do_ something? What, right now?”

Her annoyance flared, and she crossed her arms. Feliciano was _not_ going to go and rub one out in the bathroom just because he hadn’t bothered to restock.

He gave her a meaningful look.

“ _Sì, bella,_ it’s a rather...pressing matter.”

The fingers wrapped around her bicep drummed impatiently.

“And you expect me to sit here and wait?”

Feliciano deliberated on his answer for a moment, as if half expecting it to have been a trick question.

“Ah…yes?”

She got to her feet and snatched her purse from the coffee table. Feliciano was looking at her, bewildered.

“Listen, I know I’m not your girlfriend or anything, and you have… _needs_. I get it, but I have needs too! I can’t keep hanging around just so you can flirt with me, or kiss me, or f—”

Feliciano cut her off with a kiss, his lips soft.

“We’re picking this up _right_ where we left off when I get back, trust me. But please – wait, I promise you, it’ll only be a couple of minutes.” His cheeks flared. “We can’t continue without me getting…these.”

Oh. She finally understood.

“You’re going to get condoms at—” she checked the time on her phone “—three in the morning? The corner store is closed, you know.”

There was no way he’d considered that; she knew Feli well enough to know that the man rarely thought more than three seconds in advance. 

Still, he kept a straight face.

“Of course, _bella_ , don’t worry about it; I have my own special means.”

He gave her a wink to put her at ease, and she couldn’t help but smile back.

“Fine,” she sat back down and settled into her former spot on the sofa. “I’ll wait.”

-

Feliciano left his apartment and immediately started off in a jog. Shit, he hadn’t realized the store would’ve closed by now. How did it get so late so quickly? All they’d been doing was drinking…and kissing…and _touching_ …

Feliciano took the stairs two at a time down to the ground level. He struggled a bit in his drunkenness, his head spinning, his heart pounding, his skin hot, fingers slipping against the old wooden banister.

God, running was even _worse_ with a hard-on.

He hadn’t been lying when he said he’d known of another place to get condoms. Of course, this place, while not technically closed, would still be pretty pissed he was knocking at his door this late and for _condoms_ , of all things.

Then again, what was family for?

Once Feliciano was outside, the night air chilling the sweat at his skin, he only had to look to the building next to his. The window on the second level facing towards the street was lit up, telling him that Lovino was still awake. Yes!

He ran into the building, again, flying up those damned stairs until he found himself in front of his brother’s door.

He knocked frantically, not wanting to risk Lovino not hearing him, or more likely, pointedly ignoring him, and didn’t stop until his brother answered. Feliciano’s fist narrowly missed his brother’s nose when the door swung open.

“Hey! _Stonzo_ , watch it!”

In the background, Toni was half slumped against the table, an empty bottle of wine by his head, which was buried in an arm. Felciano peeked around his brother to call a greeting to his house guest.

“ _Ciao_ , Toni.”

Despite how he looked, Toni still managed to raise a hand to wave back.

Lovino scoffed at this. 

“Really -- don’t tell me you dropped on my doorstep just to say ‘hi.’”

The door started to swing shut, but Feliciano, in his panic, jammed his foot in the doorway to stop it from closing on him.

“Lovino, wait, please, I need your help!”

“Help? What is it?”

Feliciano opened his mouth to answer, but Lovino was already guessing, working himself up into one of his anxious spells.

“Is someone hurt? Do you owe someone money?” He craned his neck to look behind Feli out into the hallway. “ _Idiota_ , did you lead them here?”

“No, no—listen, it’s nothing like that. I just have this girl in my apartment, and things are…going a type of way, and I realized I’m...out of condoms.”

Lovino’s brow lifted, and he leaned against the door frame, his brow cocked, arms crossed over his chest.

“You came to my place at three in the morning…for rubbers?”

Feliciano’s cheeks flared as a slow grin spread at Lovino’s face.

“The store was closed, and the situation was—ah— _pressing_ and—”

Lovino let out a low chuckle from his belly that let Feliciano know he was deeply amused and prepared to hold it over him forever. Feliciano almost preferred his brother grumpy and paranoid.

“Say no more, _fratello_ , I get it. Let’s not leave the lady waiting, hm?”

Lovino disappeared for a moment, leaving Feliciano to fidget about by himself. He could feel the minutes slipping by. Was she getting worried? She’d said she’d wait. Was she regretting that decision?

When Lovino returned, he was still grinning like the cat that ate the canary – or the brother who had all the condoms.

“I’m glad you’re being responsible about it, at least.”

Lovino held up a little foil square. When Feliciano lunged to grab it, Lovino jerked it just out of the way. He then released a finger, allowing a trail of other foil squares to fall sad-accordion style in an embarrassing tail.

Feliciano’s cheeks reddened again, and he snatched the condom train up.

“You do know where to put it, right?”

His voice was leading Feliciano straight to the cliff he wanted to throw himself off of at that moment.

“Of course, I do!”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, then you should get going. You’re a real bastard for making her wait, you know.”

There were still some words Feliciano wanted to have with his brother, but he could put it off until tomorrow. Lovino was at least right about one thing – he had kept her waiting long enough.

“Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Lovino gave a little wave, and from the table inside, Feliciano just caught a glimpse of Toni raising a wobbly thumbs up of his own before the door shut.

-

Feliciano burst through the door just as she’d been about to walk through it herself. They stared at each other, wide-eyed, surprised at their sudden proximity again.

“I’m back,” he panted, face flushed.

“I can see that.”

She couldn’t help but smile; she knew running was the furthest thing from being Feli’s thing. Still, it was cute that he’d been willing to do it to try and keep her waiting less. The little rosy hue on his face and those bright eyes made her want to take his face in her hands again.

She fingered the edge of her purse nervously; this was going to be way more awkward now that he’d caught her. As if on cue, she watched his eyes drop to her bag and then her feet – she’d put her heels back on.

“Wait, what—”

She felt heat rise in her own face. She wished it was because she’d been running.

“Ah, yeah. So, like, this has been really cool but—”

Feliciano scrambled forward to find her hand, sandwiching it tight between his.

“No, please, _please_ , stay.”

“Listen, I know you’ve gone through the trouble of getting—” her cheeks flared, “— _things_ , but it’s getting late and—”

Feliciano put on an encouraging smile.

“All the more reason for you to stay! You’re drunk -- stay the night.”

How was she supposed to say no to him when he looked at her like that? His hands squeezed around her, and she felt it go straight up to her heart.

She tried to harden herself to him; her brow pulled into a furrow and her mouth pressed into a firm line.

“That’s a bad idea.”

He tugged her closer, and she felt a twinge in her chest.

“No, it’s not,” he said softly. He leaned in to kiss her nose, and her eyes fell shut – it did nothing to protect her from the tenderness of such an act. “Come on, _bella_ , please.”

She could still feel his warm breath on her face, though. 

She could also feel his grasp tightening, pulling her even closer. When she felt his other hand find her other hand, her head angled up, seemingly of its own accord, and then he was kissing her again.

God, even with her eyes shut, she knew how handsome he was in this fuzzy, feverish warmth.

His hands in hers didn’t stay there long. Once they managed to guide her arms into an anchoring hold around his neck, he left them there. His palms smoothed over her shoulders, across her back, and down her sides. She had to stifle a shiver as he traced luxuriously over her figure to palm her ass from the outside of her dress.

She felt her mouth crowd as his tongue joined hers, and then the next time a shiver wracked her spine, she couldn’t keep it in. She let the motion drive her harder against him – how had she been content with wine the whole evening when she could’ve had him in her mouth this entire time?

With this new proximity, the space they closed between them gave her a greater vantage from which to slide her hands against the bend in his back too. She memorized the gentle tuck of his soft sides, her fingers trailing down to his ass.

Initially, she’d been going for a sexier _Sixteen Candles_ hand-in-the-back-pocket type of thing, but an obstruction in one of the pockets stopped her. She felt blindly for this, surfacing a little from the fever of their kiss.

It was a little sharp, a little ragged feeling. 

Finding a hold between two fingers, she gave the object a tug, meaning to slide it discretely from his pocket. Instead, she ended up pulling a chain of condoms from his pants pocket, like she was pulling the string on a life-sized, horny Feli doll.

She broke the kiss so she could better see what she thought she was touching.

Feliciano’s face went sheepish as she looked from where she held the condoms over his shoulder to him. She raised an eyebrow.

“You were feeling really confident, weren’t you?”

It sounded like a statement, not a question.

She wasn’t mad about the condoms – truthfully, she would’ve found it funny. Maybe because Felicianohadn’t thought to just take one or two, or maybe because, in her experience, he probably did have the libido to make good use of all of them in a short amount of time.

A nagging thought got in the way of this, though. When he left, she was always there waiting for him – not just for condoms, but for when a date went badly, when tensions were running high in his family, or when he’d gotten himself into a bit of trouble and needed money. She was always waiting in the wings, and that’s why Feliciano had been able to get so many condoms and bring them here like that. It was because he knew, no matter how forward the gesture was, she’d still be waiting for him, always ready to come when called.

She couldn’t possibly be that for him – not _just_ that, anyway.

Her hands found firm, flat leverage at his chest as she intercepted another kiss.

“Okay,” she said a little breathlessly. “For real, I’m leaving now.”

She turned to leave but again, Feliciano’s hands were on her, stroking up her arms, circling around her waist to bring her against him. 

She could feel his hair tickling her neck, his breath warming her skin.

“You know, you can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

His chest was at her back; she wanted to lean into the steady throb of his pulse. At his comment, though, she warmed, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end.

“You came for my companionship after your date went badly too,” he continued.

Her face flared, lit by the indignant, self-righteous annoyance twisting in her gut.

“It’s different.”

“How?”

His voice was soft, not goading – never goading. 

Feliciano was never one to start a disagreement. Not willingly anyway.

He barely allowed her the opportunity to answer, and good thing too, as she had none. 

“You call, and I come running. That’s not very--” she gasped as Feliciano’s teeth sank lightly into where her neck met her shoulder “--equitable, is it?”

He skimmed his nose along the slope of her neck, and a vicious shiver wracked her spine.

“You know, I’d come if you called too,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin, his hands curling around her waist. “But, it’s like you’re afraid to try.”

Where his lips meshed softly at her neck, she felt a tightening just short of being painful, like he’d bitten softly at her or _sucked_. Whichever it was, he no doubt had left a mark.

She was facing the door, which was still open from when Feliciano had come back home. At the back of her mind, she knew this would be an embarrassing way to be caught if the one directly across the hall opened. The little worry slid through her mind like water between her fingers.

“How many times have I been here for you while you cried over failed flings?”

His voice, velvet in the night, still managed to chafe at her, even if he was kissing her like _that_.

“I’ve done the same for you.”

Feliciano made a sound of agreement, and it buzzed against her jugular as he pressed his lips to it.

“Mm, I suppose we’ve both been pretty blind then, hm?”

She wanted to ask him exactly what he meant by that, but then her head dropped back, and she let out a breathy moan as he kissed her neck.

“Call me,” he murmured. “Just try it and watch how I’ll go to you.”

His voice was poetry. While she usually hated poetry, she couldn’t help but finally understand why people thought it was so romantic. She thought maybe she was in the process of melting into a sap-hearted, naked-sleeved, emotionally-biopsied romantic herself.

For a moment, she was absolutely sure that the sound of his voice scraping against her neck really would be the most beautiful thing she’d ever hear.

“Feliciano,” she moaned, just as his hands came up to cup her breasts from the outside of her clothes.

It was too much; she kicked the door shut, and in one foul movement, he turned her around in his arms to push her up against it. His lips were on hers without any hesitation, his hips grinding down against her.

Wood hit her back as his fingers tangled in her hair. He was kissing her with such tender fervor, molding her like clay between the loving potter’s hands, fixing himself to her, his nose pushing against hers.

He angled his head without breaking their kiss, and it was like he was undressing her while she was still fully clothed, peeling back the layers of pride and sensibility, closing the strange distance they’d been dancing around for weeks. A magnificent reunion was taking place during this kiss, and they both knew it.

Feliciano’s fingers smoothed over her sides, palms tucking affectionately against the curvature of her body to pry her gently away from the door – they were about to move.

Sure enough, she closed her eyes and let him walk her backward in a feverish tangle of lips and hands. Even with the wine in their system, it wasn’t so clumsy – she knew the way by heart at this point.

She could close her eyes, and by the time he pushed his tongue into her mouth, they would’ve been in his bedroom. Usually, he would guide her until the backs of her knees hit his bed, and they fell together. Today, he pulled her against him, reassuring her that when he broke the kiss that it would be but a brief parting.

“I have a surprise,” Feliciano grinned, his eyes bright even in the dark room.

“A…surprise?”

She perched on the edge of his bed, watching curiously as Feliciano went to his closet to rifle around.

“Some new…toys, per your request from last time.”

They hadn’t slept together in weeks – what had they talked about again? Though she couldn’t remember it super clearly, she figured they’d probably been drinking again.

Before she could answer, Feliciano rose from his spot at the closet and procured a long, wide-faced paddle. Her eyes widened. Okay, that didn’t seem exactly like her.

“Uh, are you sure _I_ was the one who wanted that?”

She hadn’t pegged Feliciano as all that compatible for kinkier lovers, but who knew? There were probably many facets of him she hadn’t known yet.

Feliciano turned it around in his hands, still grinning broadly. 

The paddle looked odd in his grasp, like someone had cut and pasted it there, rather than him having picked it up.

“You said you liked being manhandled a little bit and giving up control,” his eyes seemed to flash. “So tonight, I’m taking control.”

She eyed the tool skeptically.

“I see.”

The head of the paddle lifted slightly and fell back into Feliciano’s palm with a solid thunk.

“Now, first things first – get naked.”

It was strange hearing Feliciano speak to her so directly. 

There was no edge to his voice, though there was more…structure than usual in the luxurious accent curled on his tongue. Speaking for once, instead of purring or chirping or whatever playful timbre his voice normally took on.

For a moment, she wondered about disobeying him. 

Logically, she guessed he’d reinforce his ‘orders’ with the paddle, but that was strange to imagine too. Plus, there were certainly more nuances to the dom-sub dynamic than just hitting a disobedient partner. 

Feliciano noticed how she balked.

“What is it, princess? Do you not want to? I want to see you _so_ badly.”

His voice softened again, playful and ringing like a bell. The little endearment turned in her stomach.

Her hands reached for the hem of her dress obediently.

She felt his eyes on her as potently as if they were his fingers. Even though he’d seen her naked several times before, there was still something highly erotic about undressing in front of him. Even if the newness was gone, the excitement was not. In fact, she was looking forward to the recognition that flared so vehemently. It was like he was proud -- like she was his to be proud _of_.

She pulled her dress over her head and steeled herself against the chill of exposure. His eyes ran up her legs, and she reached around to unclasp her bra. His gaze snapped to her chest as the band tightened around her torso briefly before releasing. 

She let that fall to the floor too. The cold was making her feel more exposed than she would’ve liked. 

She resisted the urge to cover herself, though; she still had her panties to take care of after all. Hooking her thumbs in the band, she dragged them down her legs, her eyes never leaving Feliciano’s as she did so and stepped out of them.

The anticipation of what was going to happen next almost left her a little breathless. She couldn’t believe she’d considered walking out that night.

She reached one arm up to wrap over her breasts, her nipples stiff from the cold, meagerly warmed from the heat of her skin. Feliciano liked when she played a little shy; it gave him something to come after.

In retrospect, this felt like a common theme in their relationship. Dancing just out of reach, only to watch the other come after them.

“Perfect. Now, come over here and undress me.”

Simple enough – she’d wanted to unwrap him all evening.

She went to him, her hand moving to stroke softly at his chest, before going to his shirt buttons. She undid them gently like she was grateful to them because he _did_ look criminally good in that shirt, though it did neither of them any favors now.

Feliciano watched her, familiar with her way of touching him, adoring of it too. He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched her push his shirt from his shoulders.

From there, her hands smoothed back up, luxuriating in the satin of his skin, arms slipping around his neck to press herself close to him. 

She bent her head down against him to kiss his chest softly.

Her nose skimmed the light seam marking the center of his chest – she thought he smelled the most like him here, a few inches away from his heart. 

She kissed him again, moving upwards to the column of his throat. Here, where his skin was even softer, she couldn’t resist – she licked a stripe along the sinewy tendons at his neck by his jugular.

She thought she heard his breathing pick up, and she relished it – until Feliciano let out a light laugh.

She froze, surprised.

“Ah, I didn’t tell you to kiss me like that, did I?”

She looked up at him, eyes wide, curious.

“I didn’t know you had to.”

Her response made the corner of his lips twitch up, and he made a soft noise at the back of his throat.

“Mm, then I suppose I should go over the rules with you.” 

A very new side of Feliciano indeed.

“Go to the bed, princess, get on your hands and knees.”

She looked at him for a moment as if trying to gauge how serious he was. He was still smiling at her, his eyebrows raised, welcoming her to challenge the instruction at her own risk.

She decided to cut her losses and go to the bed.

The duvet was soft against her knees and hands – she supposed that was a small mercy of its own. She was facing the wall, her ass towards Feliciano, while she faced one of the many paintings hung in his home, a portrait of two men on the very couch they’d sat on before. His friends, she thought, lounging around while Feliciano had painted them – the blonde one reading a book, his ankle resting on his knee. The other was a black-haired man, his head resting against the far arm of the sofa, where she’d sat. 

She was still staring at this when Feliciano had come up behind her and brought the paddle down hard on her ass.

Her skin stung from the hardness of the wood, the ache rattling up from her tailbone, up her spine. She yelped, the air leaving her in a ragged gasp. She clenched tightly.

“Feliciano, that _hurt_!”

“ _Topolina_ , if it felt good, then it wouldn’t be a punishment, would it?”

She jolted again, less this time when she felt a soft touch at the inside of her knee, nudging her legs further apart. She was curious about what Feliciano was doing back there, curious as to when the next impact would come. Still, she didn’t dare look behind her and risk exacerbating her punishment.

Something soft fell on one raw ass cheek – his lips?

“I’m going to go again,” he warned softly.

The second impact came, and she whimpered, her legs shaking slightly. The difference this time, though, beneath the swollen, simmering pain, was her inner walls, again squeezing emptily and releasing with a wave of wetness that seeped along the seam of her cunt. God, she was _soaked_.

She felt a little winded.

Her skin felt hot and tight like she hadn’t undressed after all.

She felt his fingers come between her legs to rub at her folds. She moaned, leaning back into his touch, wanting his fingers _inside_ , not just against.

“Mm, you’re wet. Are you enjoying your punishment after all?”

“I’m not.”

There was that _tsking_ sound again.

“Lying to me? Not good.”

He touched her ass again, but this time it came in a light pinch. Paired with the lingering sting of the paddle resurrected the deep-running ache from the first swing.

“ _Ah_!—”

“The next one will hurt too, okay?”

This time she was ready for the impact; she clenched her teeth and took it. A spatter of her slick slipped down at the insides of her thighs. If he’d even tried to penetrate her then, he would’ve found almost no resistance.

She waited around, ass stinging to see if the paddle would come again. It didn’t.

“Now that you know the rules a little better, can you get my pants?”

A soft, caressing touch trailed along her spine and disappeared by the base. She wished desperately for it to pick up again between her legs, but it didn’t.

She turned around to face him, staying on her knees to avoid her tender bottom as she popped the button and pulled down the zip of his trousers. She hooked her fingers at the waistband of his briefs and pants and pulled them down to reveal him. His erection sprang free, his heavy scent curling around her.

Her mouth almost watered, but she knew better than to take the liberty of putting him in her mouth all on her own. She looked at him.

“May I use my mouth on you?”

“Mm, you may.” One finger came up to brush affectionately at her cheek. “ _Che brava ragazza_.”

The fabric was tugged down just beneath his hips, baring the tantalizing edge of bone that framed his formidable erection. 

She leaned against him, running her hands lightly up his stomach, through the wiry hair blanketing his abdomen. For a moment, she thought he’d punish her again for not asking to touch him, but instead, he just bent forward to press a kiss to her shoulder.

She crouched down and bent forward, sealing her lips around his cock. She had never thought him small, but up close, he seemed massive when struggling to fit him inside her like this. One of his hands fell to the same shoulder he’d kissed, like he was wiping it away, stroking softly, squeezing, as she withdrew on his length to the tip before taking him in again.

She bobbed on him a few times before she pulled him out of her mouth, her hands closing over his stiff shaft, gleaming with her spit. She broke the faint rope of saliva that connected her to him as she ducked her head under his cock, to suck on his balls.

As she took the wrinkled, sensitive skin between her lips and mouthed at it, Feliciano’s hands found a hard grip in her hair, tangling and threading through it, stroking, coveting it like it was his to do so.

“Beautiful,” she heard him breathe. “Gorgeous, lovely.”

When she moved to take his cock in her mouth again, she could feel him twitch. He tasted salty, heady. Any apprehension she held earlier at the idea of sleeping with him again was completely wiped away. She forgot how rewarding it felt to make him feel good.

One of Feliciano’s hands left her hair to tug lightly at her nipple; she moaned, the sound buzzing around his head.

Her hand reached to cup his balls and fondle gently. She hollowed her cheeks, tightening how she sucked and lapped at his cock, her tongue tracing the underside and grinding flat against the tip, all the while her hands rolled his sac softly between her fingers.

“You make it hard not to come in your mouth and end things here.”

The hand at her breast drifted further down to hover just above the tuft of hair between her legs, stroking lightly across her belly. The thought of Feliciano touching her gleaned an excitement she’d forgotten lay inside her. She parted her thighs for him automatically, trying to coax him between her legs.

Feliciano’s hand drifted no lower than her pubic hair, combing through the wiry curls. She felt her own sex twitch. She was probably leaving a wet spot on the bed.

“You’re so cute,” he murmured, the playfulness apparent in his tone. “It almost makes me a little jealous to imagine you like this in front of someone else.”

When he mentioned this, she felt herself clench emptily, the heat simmering in her gut, flaring. It wasn’t like him to act jealously. 

Her cheeks warmed, but she said nothing – no talking with her mouthful, right?

She focused on keeping her lips wrapped tight around his shaft, her lipstick smearing against his skin. The thought of previous partners didn’t heighten her arousal – but the knowledge that Feliciano was thinking about her with someone else absolutely did. 

She thought her desire for him doubled in an instance. 

Was his cock somehow harder in her mouth?

“It makes me wonder,” he continued. “How many have there been? I think of how we seem to end up like this every time one of us has a bad date – but what about the dates that go well…”

She never ceased in her ministrations; she didn’t want to answer his question. Still, she couldn’t deny that the truth would’ve disappointed him. He may have been her favorite lover, but he certainly wasn’t her only one. She felt no guilt; she was sure it was the same for him if she even had a right to consider herself his favorite, at that.

Feliciano tensed – he was close. He knew this too, and then his hands went to her shoulders to push him gently off of him.

He reached into his back pocket for one of the many condoms he’d stuffed into it earlier. Ripping one of the foil squares from the line, he opened it. She watched as he rolled it onto his length.

Feliciano palmed his cock, making his already impressive erection look even larger.

“I want to take you now.”

The words weren’t so dirty in themselves though she understood what Feliciano meant past this. 

Usually, when they fucked, it was their bodies pressed together on the bed, slow caressing touches and kisses so luxurious she felt like she was melting into them. Today had been different, and so she knew that rather than use his mouth or fingers to prepare her, Feliciano meant that he wanted to take her then and there, as she was.

Her ass was still terribly sore from the paddling, warning her of the new pain taking him without preparation would bring.

She said nothing at first, their eyes meeting quietly. 

While he hadn’t said it like one, she knew it was a request, not a demand – that’s why he was waiting now. She bit her lip.

The idea of him fucking her, fingers pinching into a bruising grip at her skin, his breath hot and heavy against her neck as he railed her with this new, feral, uncharacteristically raw intensity had her almost ready to come that very second.

She left the bed to stand in front of him, not able to wait for him any longer.

“So then come and get me.”

Feliciano surprised her by grabbing her hard and jerking her against him. His erection was caught between them, grinding against the nice little wet patch between her legs, just barely missing her clit each time.

She scrambled for a more frantic hold on him, wanting to feel him closer, deeper, just… _more_ , but then Feliciano was driving her back against the wall, his grip hard and bruising at her side. No sooner did the wall hit her back, she raised one leg to wrap around his waist.

Again, there was that tantalizingly close friction, teasing just out of reach of that sensitive bundle of nerves…

“Feli,” she punched out between gritted teeth, “For the love of God, just—”

She was cut off as he filled her in one fluid movement. 

Already unprepared, she tensed further at the surprising sting, her eyes watering at the stretch.

“Like this?”

He thrust into her hard, and she let out a little whimper, her grip on him now desperate for a whole other reason, seeking comfort, needing stability as pain and pleasure warred between her legs.

“Have any of your lovers ever taken you like this?” he grunted. 

She thought of her other lays and felt her cheeks warm. 

Even if her heart wasn’t about to beat straight out of her chest, or if he wasn’t fucking her at a pace that left her struggling to keep up, she wouldn’t have been able to remember all the cocks she’d taken. They all started to blend together in the drunken feverishness of it all.

She only remembered the ones that hadn’t managed to make her come, and quite frankly, those were few and far between lately.

Her head ducked, her lips brushing against his shoulder to taste the salt at his skin. She was grateful for the reprieve from his eyes – but a moment of relief was all she got.

One of his hands came up to hold her chin, forcing her face up towards his so that she had to look at him. His brow was furrowed with an intensity she seldom saw on him. 

She felt soft and helpless against his body, his cock hard, like a ramrod jammed up inside of her.

“Hm? Answer me. Has anyone taken you like this? 

Think hard about the lovers you’ve had – those that have had you.”

Their noses were pushed together, then their foreheads.

Feliciano’s panting mixed with the furtive, gasping rhythm of her own breathing. She vaguely registered his back, pale, his skin clear and almost translucent in the dark. 

She could barely make out the way his vertebrae notched out, like fragile rungs on an intricate latter.

With each thrust into her, she could feel his cock bringing her closer and closer to her release; each drag felt like a step forward. 

Her nails bit into the skin at his back, and she heard Feliciano grunt.

Her mouth made an ‘o’ as another moan fell from her mouth, and through the feverish haze, she could just barely make out how one of his fingers came up to trace gently along her bottom lip.

She felt her slick drip out of her from around his cock, and she tensed, noting that he really did have impressive girth.

Feliciano’s hand found her leg at his waist and flung it over his shoulder, forcing her into a deep stretch as he railed her, the wall bruising her back, his sac slapping lightly against her clit, sending jolts of pleasure shocking through her system to numb her brain.

“You didn’t answer my question. Don’t think I can’t still punish you just because I’m no longer holding the paddle.”

Immediately, she imagined him withholding her climax, drawing this out as they danced so close to the edge, stomach swooping, blood pounding in her ears, only to tug her back before she could plummet.

She clenched tight around him as if she could keep him hilted inside of her. She wanted to answer him, wanted to be good so that she could finally come, but instead of words, another hapless moan left her. 

He was fucking her rougher than he ever had now, her breasts bouncing between them.

“No, no one’s— _ah_!—like you.”

She missed a word; she _knew_ she missed some words. 

She had wanted to say ‘taken me,’ but she was squeezing around him greedily like she wanted to match his thrusts, and the returning friction made it impossible to focus on anything else. 

Feliciano seemed pleased with her response nevertheless, his body bowing and meshing against hers as her orgasm ripped through her with a vengeance.

Her body tensed against his, and then she felt like she was floating, her head dropping back to hit the wall as Feliciano chased his own release in her. 

She thought of what she’d said; ‘no one’s like you.’ 

How mortifying. 

How _true_.

It wasn’t just the sex either, nor was it the wine talks or the days spent wandering around Venice even though she’d never been much of a wanderer – not a single day in her life before she’d met Feli.

She couldn’t quite explain it, because obviously, there weren’t any other Italian locals that had crash-landed into her life, snagged her heart to run away with it, but in earnest, she believed not only was there no one like Feliciano but that there would _never_ be anyone like him in her life again.

She let out a little whimper, just to validate the thought, and then Feliciano’s entire body seemed to tense over her, holding her with his whole self, and she knew he had come too.

His breathing was rough for a few moments, his face buried into her sweat-soaked skin. Then he lifted himself and carefully let the leg over his shoulder, down. The drag of him against her as he pulled out had her stirring under him. For a moment, her arms tightened around his neck, unwilling to surrender the heat and fulfillment his body provided her.

Feliciano reached around to gently untangle her arms from around him, the other hand securing the mouth of the condom around his cock. She watched, her arms folding around her chest, as he carefully unrolled the condom from his cock, looping the plastic into a tight tie when he’d done so. The end hung heavily, weighed by his spend. She clenched emptily around herself; it was a little miserable knowing that they hadn’t really been together. Not the way she’d wanted them to be, at least.

Feliciano leaned in to press a sweaty kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be right back; I’m going to get some towels.”

She watched as he disappeared into the bathroom. Alone in the dark, where the high of her release could dissipate, she realized that for all his sweet words and touches, that nothing had actually changed.

In the end, there was a separation to them that couldn’t be conquered by closing distance alone; it was as natural as anything else that occurred in the world. Something that prevented the lines from blurring and her from running muddy into Feliciano and vice versa. It made it so easy for the both of them to walk away all the time, and when they came running back, it was hardly any sort of real union. On the other hand, it was sort of a blessing – it kept her whole. 

It also kept her resolutely alone.

The thought depressed her; the mood was sufficiently killed.

Hadn’t he mentioned earlier that he had another date lined up for the next night?

She went back to the foot of the bed, where their clothes were piled. She had to work fast; she tugged her dress back on hastily, forgoing the bra and underwear. She could wad those up and stuck them in her purse. 

Now decent, at least, she was about to make a speedy, discrete getaway when Feliciano emerged from the bathroom.

At once, the glow to his skin and light of his eyes had dimmed. 

His expression seemed disappointed.

“Please, don’t go.”

Sex seemed to sober her up. This time, her chest didn’t ache when Feliciano begged for her. 

He was never the stoic, but after sex especially, he seemed to get particularly mushy.

She snorted. What a pathetic cycle they’d fallen into.

Her eyes dropped to the condoms still snaking out of his pants’ pocket.

“What,” she nodded to it. “You want to use the entire chain today?”

Feliciano went to her, his arms circling her waist, his lips finding that sensitive spot just under her jaw. She kept her mouth pinched into a firm line, denying the moan that bubbled in her throat.

He perched at the edge of the bed and brought her down onto his lap, so she was straddling him. Her dress was riding high around her hips again. She tried hard not to sink into the beautiful feeling of him filling her arms.

His nose was buried into the crook of her neck.

“No. I just miss you already, and you haven’t even left yet.”

Fuck. Now a pang did go through her, and she ached all over. She hugged Feliciano back a little harder, her face in his chest, her fingers tensing as if she was afraid he’d pull away suddenly.

Feliciano’s hands stroked down her back, stair-stepping each notch of her spine, moving down to cup her ass.

As soon as his hands squeezed at her buttocks, she jolted in his arms.

“Ow!” she hissed.

“Oh no,” Feliciano’s hands flinched away from her ass to come up to her face, stroking softly, coaxingly. Still, he couldn’t help how his voice broke off into a soft laugh. 

He shifted, so she was off his lap, on all fours again – just as she’d been when her ass had started hurting.

“Wait here, and I’ll be back with some ice.” He leaned down to press a kiss on either cheek before he tugged the skirt of her dress down again, which made her own face heat.

“Yeah, fine,” she muttered.

Feliciano left the room again to go to the kitchen. This time, she stayed – an anomaly in their cycle. More than that, leaving hadn’t even crossed her mind. 

She didn’t dare let herself think that things were going to be different this time around – she wasn’t so naïve, at least not anymore. 

Still, old habits could only break if steps were taken to break them, and small as they were, baby steps were still steps.

She was still thinking that as Feliciano returned to the room, ice wrapped in a dishcloth in his hand, an endearing, crooked little smile at his lips.

The only trace of circles in her thoughts for the rest of the night was the way Feliciano’s arms came around her and held her to him.


End file.
